Murder in my Heart
by Elpinoine
Summary: Finally, my first fic! WARNING: character death! This is an songfic that describes snippets of Lothíriel's life after Eómer's early death. Slightly AU, obviously. Please let me know what you think!


Ok, so here is my first complete fanfic ever! I don't know why my first one had to be so depressing, but it wouldn't go away, so. . . here it is! The song is Murder in my Heart by Sheryl Crow. Please let me know how to improve!

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><p><em>I used to love a boy <em>

_I still see him in these rooms_

_His head was like the summer_

_And his voice was like the moon_

_Sometimes he makes me heavy_

_A deeper shade of blue_

_And there's murder in my heart_

_And there's nothing I can do_

Lothíriel sighed as she stared at the bedroom she and Eómer had shared for only ten years. Her hair brushed her face as she wiped a tear from her eyes. Now was not the time to break down, although she wanted to so badly. She looked up again and gasped. Eómer was sitting at his desk, ruffling his hair as he read some papers. At the sound of her gasp, he turned around and grinned at her. He called her name, then he faded away. His silver laughter echoed in the room. Lothíriel stared, her face covered in tears. How she missed him! She dried her face, then sighed again. She was going to have to wash it again before Elfwine's coronation.

_I used to love a boy_

_But now he's two years dead_

_I hear myself repeating what my father always said_

_Don't let it make you bitter_

_And watch while you're blue_

_I got murder in my heart_

_But I'd rather die instead_

Lothíriel and Elfwine were both received with warm, strong hugs, Lothíriel's a little tighter than Elfwine's. She looked up into the faces of Imrahil and Elphir and smiled a little, for the first time since Eómer's tragic death. She had initiated this visit of state in hopes that it would make her feel better, because her mood was affecting Elfwine and he did not need her grief on top of his other burdens. He was only eleven, and would need her guidance for another seven years before she could fully succumb to what she felt. So she steeled herself and smiled a little wider. Imrahil and Elphir were not fooled, but Elfwine seemed a little less tight.

Later, Lothíriel and Imrahil walked together in the gardens her mother had loved so much. Lothíriel was no longer smiling, and Imrahil gently spoke, saying, "Lothíriel-heart, please don't grow bitter and let this grief overcome you. You are strong, I know that you can get over this. Elfwine needs you. He will be a good and strong king someday, but it will be some time before he reaches that place where he can stand on his own. For his sake as well as your own, don't let this kill you. Hold on to life!" Lothíriel looked away.

But when she prepared for bed that night, she repeated his words. She felt a little better. She could get over this, as long as she had something to live for. And she had plenty to live for. She had to make sure Eómer's legacy was as great as he was.

_Somebody would've taken on a lover_

_Does anybody need another friend_

_Right now anybody doesn't need_

"My lady, may I have this dance?" Lothíriel looked at the nobleman in front of her with mild distaste. He had a reputation, and she did not want to find out whether it was rightfully earned or not, especially on this day. But he was high-ranking, and could have caused a fuss for Aragorn, so she reluctantly accepted.

Indeed, no sooner had the dance started than he was moving closer than was proper, his hand on her back starting to drift. He whispered in her ear, "Surely you would like a man to warm your bed tonight." Lothíriel paused, waiting. But then the realization hit her like Gimli's axe- Eómer had been dead for six years now, he wasn't coming to rescue her. The thought made tears spring into her eyes and planted anger in her heart. Without thinking, she pulled away from the man and slapped him across the face. She yelled, "How dare you!" into his stunned face, then whirled around and stalked away.

Lothíriel realized what she had done when she reached the edge of the dance floor and hesitated, glancing almost shyly at Aragorn. She continued, however, when she saw the approval in his face.

Five minutes later, she dropped down on her bed and sighed, staring at her hands in her lap. Slapping that man had not given her as much satisfaction as watching Eómer dispatching overeager men had.

_I kinda like the ocean_

_With its arms stretched open wide_

_But I know what it means to be dragged out with the tide_

_And to fight from going under_

_And to keep myself alive_

_And there's murder in my heart _

_And there's water in my eyes_

Lothíriel stared at the ocean, the companion of her youth. She was finally free. Free from her regency, free from the memories seeing Rohan gave her. She never had to return there if she did not want to. Morwen hadn't. But Lothíriel knew she would have to go back eventually. Her son would get married someday and have children. He was going to be a wonderful king. She idly wondered if he would inherit the _Eádig_ name that the people had started calling Eómer by a few years before his death.

The thought of Eómer still sent a sharp pain through her, even a decade after his death. Today would have been their twentieth wedding anniversary. She watched a vision of a log being pulled out to sea through increasingly moist eyes. She felt like that log, being set adrift, with nothing to hold onto. She remember her father's words a couple of years after Eómer died. Imrahil had said that she should not be bitter. He had told her to hold on to life, for Elfwine's sake. Now Elfwine did not need her. Nobody did anymore. She was Lothíriel, dowager queen of Rohan, with no one to hold onto, no one to lavish all her love on anymore. Eómer had been her anchor in hard times. Who would be her anchor now, in this the hardest of all times?

Lothíriel shivered, then started when she realized that she was standing waist deep in the ocean. At first her instincts took over, and she took a couple of steps back. But then she stopped. She was so tired of fighting for life. Everyone would miss her, of course, but they would move on. She didn't think she could be strong like them, strong enough to move on despite Eómer's absence. It had already been ten years, and she was still mourning! Why should she want to live in this grief for any longer?

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Eómer standing in the waves in front of her. He reached out to her, a look of panic on his face, exclaiming, "No! Lothíriel, live for me!" She blinked, then he was gone.

_Went out late last night_

_Just to get a little air_

_And I walked beneath the streetlights_

_And I saw nobody there_

_Just a bitterness that followed me_

_A saddening surprise_

_There's murder in my heart _

_And I made me that way_

_There's murder in my heart_

_I can't make it go away_

Lothíriel walked through the silent streets of Edoras with some trepidation. Ever since she had been caught in the ocean, sobbing, last year, she was never left alone. She appreciated everyone's concern, but the constant company wore on her. She needed to just breathe for a little while.

She grew introspective, and silently counted the lanterns she passed by. Why they were there, she did not know. It seemed such a waste of oil to have them lighted when no one was around. She would have to speak to Eó. . . Elfwine. She stopped as sadness overwhelmed her. It had been nearly twelve years since his death. Surely she should have stopped expecting to see him around every corner by now. But she still longed to see him, and that thought made her bitter. She gave a low, hollow laugh as she realized that her father's words of so many years ago had been in vain. Lothíriel slowly collapsed in the middle of the street and began to sob.


End file.
